Kim & The Hitman, Sandie Baldry [red novels txt] 📗

it? I thought we’d settled the arrangements. This isn’t convenient, not secure,’ snapped the man, with a glance at the door. ‘What do you mean, a change of plan?’ He cracked with a look to his watch.

‘You said 3.30, not 3.15,’ he paused, listening. ‘Hold on, slow down. Let me get this straight.’ His fingers drummed on the sink. ‘That’s something. She’ll still be at the Economy insurance building,’ he said with an air of sarcasm, another glance at his watch. ‘Anything else I need to know? Is the woman still driving that ridiculous mini with the headlights decorated in bits of rubber?’ He huffed. ‘Deserves everything she gets.’ Another pause. ‘I know her name, Jenna whatever. All I needed was the picture you sent, and I got it.’ He paused, stretching out a hand to examine his fingernails, as a voice from the other end ranted. ‘Oh, she’s a blonde this week. Yes, that’s important information. Listen to me, I will only tell you this once; get rid of the phone, and under no circumstances, contact me again. By 3.20,’ he glanced at the door lowering his voice. ‘You will be a widower.’ He hung up. ’Fuck, the idiots I have to deal with.’

Taking the sim card from the phone, he tossed it into the bin and dropped the sim on the floor, crushing it with the heel of his boot. He checked himself in the mirror, running his fingers through his thick, grey hair, then left.

I let out a breath I’d been holding. Had I heard right? This man was going to kill someone called Jenna. I went for my phone to text the girls, but I’d left it on the table. This was big. I needed to tell someone. I peered out of the loo door. It was clear, no sign of the man in a rain mac, so I dashed back to the table. Sitting, I snatched my mobile and typed, my hands shaking. I couldn’t exactly call 999. I had no voice, and do the police accept texts?

I typed the message and waved it under Alex’s nose until she took it. Alex read it. Then burst out laughing.

‘Listen to this, ‘ she said, with a smug smile and a glance at me. ‘Titman going to kill Jenna in a car with lashers.’

They all laughed. I mouthed, ‘HIT man,’ making a gesture with my hands of holding a gun which made them laugh even louder. With a check on the time, it was 2.15, and my mind made up. I grabbed my bag and left, almost falling over in my new shoes, Ron having to catch me. Now he brings my diet coke.

‘Oh, Kim, don’t be like that,’ Alex called after me.

 4

 

 

Letting a breeze cool my face, I Googled ‘police station’ on my phone. I’ve lived in Ipswich all my life, but I could say I’ve never visited the local constabulary. And besides, with the developments of late, it wouldn’t have surprised me if it had moved.

According to Google, it was ten minutes on foot. I got a move on, which wasn’t easy in my heels. What had started as a breeze was turning into a wind, the sky overcast. Since I hadn’t brought an umbrella with me, I prayed the rain would hold off.

As I walked, I could see the tall, black glass insurance building where this Jenna worked. I didn’t understand the panic rising within me. I didn’t know the woman. Why should I care? But I did. My feet were sore, and I was breathless; it was now 2.30 as I stumbled into the reception area of the police station. The desk was empty. Then a sergeant popped up from behind the counter.

Catching a reflection of myself in the glass cabinet behind the desk, I shuddered. My hair, usually perfectly smooth and straight, had developed a frizz—but no time to worry about that now. I pointed to my throat.

‘Can’t talk, lost my voice,’ I mouthed. I got a blank expression from him. I mouthed the words again, this time slowly so that he could understand. My heart was racing. Even if I had a voice, perhaps I wouldn’t have made sense. I had the urge to run out and burst into the insurance building or take the sergeant by the throat and shake him. The latter, I was sure, wouldn’t end well for me.

Then I thought the penny had dropped, as he gave me a big grin.

‘You’re in luck,’ he said, with a smile showing stained, crooked teeth. ‘I was made to take a fingerspelling course last year. Now let’s see if I can remember.’ He started to sign with his fingers and talked slowly at the same time. He thought I was deaf.

My head hung for a second before I lifted it again. I had to get through to this man fingerspelling his name. Even though I could see it on the id around his neck. I grabbed his hand to make him look at me while I made a gesture with the other hand like I was writing. His eyes showed understanding and disappointment at the same time. Retrieving a sheet of paper and a pen, he laid it out in front of me.

The clock on display read 2.50. I wrote an outline of the problem. A hitman will kill Jenna at… the name of that insurance company was? I stared at the sergeant, who looked bemused. Cheap jack insurance. Close enough. I spun the sheet around. He read it, then eyed me with a look my mother used to give me when she thought I was lying. He glanced at the calendar behind him, blowing out a breath. It was April 1st.

‘You realise we can charge you with wasting police time.’

I stared at him with an opened mouth and threw my hands up in a gesture.

‘Your name?’ he tapped